Redemption
by Queen Luana
Summary: Former Grey Warden Lale and her companion travel to Kirkwall to meet an old friend, and set things straight once and for all. Post DA:O  ONESHOT


Human, Mage, Magi.

You let Loghain go through the Joining.

You let Anora become queen.

You convinced Anora to spare Alistair.

The rain had been pouring down on the Free Marches for hours on end, and here in Kirkwall, refugees and beggars cowered together under the little shelter its streets provided. Through this never wavering tempest, two figures scurried along the alleys, heads concealed beneath the thick black cloaks they were wearing. Few people looked up as they came running past. They moved swiftly and kept out of sight, at last halting at the large door leading to the Hanged Man.

A fair face peeked out from underneath her hood. "This is it, then," she said. "The Hanged Man. My, it looks even gloomier than they describe it in the tales."

Her companion drew back her own hood and looked up at the sky. "It can't be much worse inside than out here. We've come this far. I think a mug of ale would do us both good."

She pushed open the door and they shuffled inside. The pub's atmosphere was a strange contrast to the ghastly weather outside. There was music and people were singing and laughing, drowning themselves in ale and groping any by-passing female they could get their stubby dirty fingers on. It was warm inside, and the air was thick with the smell of beer and male sweat. The two travelers threw off their cloaks near the fire, where two dwarves were getting touchy on the floor.

The shorter of the two ran her hand through her drippy pale blond hair. "Out of one hole and into another."

Her companion smiled. "I was just about to say the same thing." She glanced around the room. "Nevertheless, we better keep a low profile. Especially you, Lale."

Her friend gave a slight nod. "Let's just do what we came here to do and go. I have no wish to stay here any longer than necessary." For the two years she and Leliana had been traveling together, she'd grown accustomed to avoiding large crowds. They'd hardly ever come across a city the size of Kirkwall and she'd grown used to the quiet of the fields and woods. And Kirkwall had certainly never been high on the list of places she still wished to see. It had a reputation and a reputation well earned, at that. The City of Slaves. After the Blight had sent the people from all over Ferelden fleeing to the South across the Waking Sea, Kirkwall had become crowded with refugees and home to murder and thievery. One tyrant after another had tried to maintain order in the city according to his own believes and it had only resulted in the decline of freedom of its inhabitants, especially mages such as herself. She had no wish to be here. At the same time she had no other choice.

They elbowed their way through the crowd of customers, dodging drunks and declining certain immoral offers.

"Lale."

She halted when her partner nudged her and nodded towards the bar. It only proved how much she had the eye and perception of a well-trained rogue as Lale herself would never have recognized the person for who he was. He was hunched over at the bar, dressed in plain commoner's clothes and a scarcely dressed tanned female was flaunting over him, but he seemed to have no eyes for her. All he was interested in was the mug of stale ale in front of him.

Lale sighed and made her way towards him. "Excuse me-"

"Beat it, blondie," the woman snapped. "Find your own."

Lale tossed her a piece of silver. "Your services are no longer required."

She looked down at the coin in her hand and then rolled her eyes, before addressing her attention to another drunk.

Lale sat down on a stool at the bar. "I almost didn't recognize you."

The blonde seemed barely capable of lifting his own head but looked up nonetheless. He squinted at her. "Well," he then said, quietly chuckling. "Look who has come to honor me with her presence." He raised his mug. "Barkeep! A mug of your finest ale for the hero of Ferelden!"

"Keep your voice down," she hissed and looked around. Hardly anyone was paying attention. Most of them just saw it as the ranting of yet another drunk.

Leliana was standing a few feet away, keeping an eye out for trouble.

"And what brings a Grey Warden to a place like Kirkwall?" he slurred. "Surely, you have more important matters to attend to. Like… Kissing newborns, sucking up to Anora, or something."

"I came here to find you," she said quietly.

"Me?" He laughed and straightened himself. "I think I was perfectly clear last time I saw you, about my feelings concerning seeing you again." When he sat up straight he could hardly keep his balance. He tried to look smug but he almost toppled over when he tried to look her in the eye. He looked more raffled than she'd ever seen him, and she had camped with him for weeks on end. They'd go for days without a decent bath yet somehow he'd always managed to keep a clean shave and keep his hair somewhat managed. But his blonde locks had grown longer and were now greasy and almost covering his eyes. He had stubble on his chin and his eyes were bloodshot. He didn't smell too good either.

She herself had changed too, of course. Her short ash blonde hair had grown to reach her shoulders now, much to Leliana's joy who had made a habit out of braiding it every single morning, only to find it tangled and knotted by nightfall. Her body was scarred and burned; the Archdemon had marked her before his death, and the now healed lighter patches of skin on her left arm and neck would always remind her of the battle of Denerim. There were scars, though, not visible to the eye.

"Alistair-"

"Looky there, lads, what a mighty fine piece of work we have here!" Lale glanced over her shoulder and saw a tall and equally wasted man had wobbled towards her and was now groping for the bar in order to keep his balance. "Evenin', gorgeous."

"Not interested, I suggest you go work your charm on someone else," she said and turned her back to him. He wouldn't give up quite so easy though.

"You're not from around here, are you, lass? I'd remember a pretty face like that." The drunk continued to fire off every pick up line he could think of, but to no avail.

Leliana watched from a distance, wondering whether she needed to step in or no. She didn't feel like starting a fuss over a drunk. It would certainly draw unwanted attention. But as always she would let her fingertips rest on the blade tucked in her belt.

The drunkard was getting more and more impatient as Lale continued to ignore him, staring vastly ahead of her. She knew well enough she could take him on. But her weapons were her hands. She could get in plenty of trouble over it.

Finally, the drunk male reached out a filthy hand to grab her shoulder.

Faster then she'd ever thought him capable of in this state, Alistair jumped to his feet and snatched the man's wrist in a firm grip. "Look here, buddy. The lady said she wasn't interested."

Both girls could see how things would go bad very quickly from there. Leliana rushed forward to intervene but Alistair had already punched the man squarely in the face. He stumbled back, bumping right into a couple of muscular shady looking men, who pushed him back. Things got out of hand after that. Within seconds, chairs were flying across the room, barmaids were sheltering under tables and the bar was one big cloud of fists.

"This looks like a perfect time to leave," Leliana announced. "I'll clear the way."

Alistair had slouched down on his stool again and emptied the last of his mug. Exasperated, Lale swung one arm over her shoulders and lifted the heavy man to his feet. Leliana was stomping people out of the way and seemed to enjoy herself doing it. They didn't bother running over to the fire to fetch their cloaks. Barely clad they faced the pouring rain again. Finally out of sight of the Hanged Man, Lale pushed Alistair up against a wall where he stood wobbly on his feet.

"Hopefully the rain will sober him up a bit," Lale muttered.

"A good night sleep and a hearty breakfast should do the trick," Leliana said and placed her hands on her hips. "I must say I can hardly believe it. I mean, look at him. I feel like he's hardly aware we're even here."

She was right. Alistair was slowly nodding off despite the rain and the cold. He only grumbled every now and then, but nothing coherent reached his lips.

"A barrel of ale will do that to you," Lale sighed. "I guess we won't be doing a lot of talking tonight."

"We should go look for shelter," Leliana suggested. "I might know a place."

Each taking one arm over their shoulders they dragged Alistair out of the alley. He could barely stand on his feet anymore and passed out every other minute.

"It's up the stairs, that door over there." They tried dragging him up the stairs but he was already snoring and weighed them down.

"Oh, never mind him," Lale grunted and dropped him. They left him lying spread-eagled in the middle of the stairs and went to knock the door at the top. "Someone you know?"

"I met her while I was in Lothering not long before I met you. She was an apostate fleeing the Blight and headed for Kirkwall, said she had a lover here. I had just left the Chantry, and she offered me to come along. I didn't, because, well, you know why."

"Your dream."

"Right. Anyway she said that if I changed my mind, this is where she'd be."

No one had answered the door. "Doesn't seem like anybody's home."

Leliana looked up at the cobwebs hanging from the doorway. "Considering she's a mage, she may have left when Meredith rose to power. This isn't a good place for mages to be right now."

"Yet here we are," Lale sighed and looked down at Alistair, snoring on the stone steps.

Leliana picked a hair clip out of her wet locks and crouched in front of the door. "I suppose you were hoping for a different kind of reunion."

"When I heard the rumors I knew not to get my hopes up," Lale said.

Leliana stood up again and kicked the lock, causing the door to swing open and slam against the wall. It was dark inside. "I guess she did leave."

Lale raised her hand and formed a fireball in its palm. It illuminated the room faintly. Chairs were toppled over and drawers were pulled out of the closets. "Looters," she said and stepped inside. "This place must've been empty for some time." She found some candles on the table and lit them.

"Good heavens, he's heavy," Leliana grunted. She'd hooked her hands under Alistairs arms and was dragging him up the stairs and into the house by herself. Lale closed the door behind her. There was a backroom with a single bed, so they lifted Alistair into it. He just kept on snoring.

"I wonder how long it's been since he slept in an actual bed," Lale said.

"Judging from the smell he spent the last couple of nights in a heap of dragon manure," she muttered. "I'd take his shoes off but, well, I think I might vomit."

"Let's tuck him in to contain the smell…"

After managing to get him covered in blankets up till his chin, they straightened out the other room and lit a fire in the mantle place. Leliana pulled out a bottle of wine from her backpack, which she'd been saving since they passed through Orlais. "I suppose now's as good a time as any," she said and pulled up two chairs near the table. "We best keep our voices down. I wouldn't want to have to restrain him in order to keep him from crawling back to that bar."

"That man sleeps like a log, trust me," Lale said and placed two dusty mugs on the table. She wiped them clean on her sleeve. "He would sleep through the entire Blight if his appetite didn't wake him."

Leliana smiled at her when she filled the mugs.

"What?"

"It's funny," she said. "Well, not in the amusing kind of way. I just used to love watching the two of you together." She cleared her throat. "What I mean is, you always were so secretive. It was like this part of you I just couldn't read, a Lale you kept to yourself. Forgive me if I sound straightforward, I just feel like after all the time we spent together, I can be honest with you."

"I suppose you can."

"Well then. There was a part of you you kept from everybody else. Maybe because you were afraid of being hurt, I'm not sure. But when you were with Alistair, you bloomed. You became this whole different kind of person. You smiled a lot more as well. You allowed yourself to drop your guard around him. Seeing the two of you together, despite your common efforts to keep things secret, it reflected on all of us. It was a nice change, considering all the darkness the Blight brought with it."

Lale stared down at her mug. As Leliana talked she could see it all happening again, memories from the Blight they had faced together. Even in the lonely nights at camp, they'd settled down at the fire, close together, talking about nothing and everything all at once. They'd keep quiet and say a million words at the same time. They'd think of the future, a time beyond the Blight. In the deep dark of night everything would seem swell.

"You can imagine how surprised I was after the Landsmeet," Leliana continued, "when Alistair left. I mean, I know how much what happened at Ostagar meant to him, and how much he wanted to see Loghain pay. When you decided to spare him I figured he'd be upset, to say the least. But I always assumed it'd blow over, that he'd come to terms with it."

"And then he left," Lale muttered and took a sip from her mug.

"I'm sure it came as a shock to all of us. Even Morrigan seemed a tad surprised."

"He did come up and talk to me before he left," Lale said. "I can't remember is his exact words, I suppose I've tried not to think about it too much. What it came down to was that he saw my decision as something personal. That I had consciously decided to do something knowing well enough how much it meant to him."

"That sounds like him. He always was a bit radical."

"It was absurd of course," Lale said. "Childish even."

"Yet you felt guilty."

"Of course I did. That's why I am here. I'm not here to fix things, just to set things straight."

* * *

><p>Alistair gasped when a bucket of cold water hit him in the chest. He shot up straight, struggling to free himself from the sheets wrapped around him and finally tossing them aside.<p>

"Nothing better to get you sobered up than a bucket of fresh water from the well," Leliana smiled. "I found you a clean set of garments, so wash up and get dressed. Maybe fix your hair while you're at it. It looks awful."

He looked up at her questioningly then gazed about the room. "What are you doing here?"

"That's really not for me to say," she said politely. She'd refrained from telling him what kind of a drunken idiot he'd been. "It's nearly noon, so freshen up."

Lale was still sitting at the table. She'd been up all night, unable to sleep. Leliana had curled up in front of the fire after their talks had subdued and dozed off in minutes. But Lale was restless. She'd been thinking about the Landsmeet and all the events leading up to it. The two years roaming around Ferelden and its neighboring lands she'd tried so hard to suppress any thought concerning Alistair. She'd tried so hard to push him away. But part of her had always hoped she'd get word from him. Surely he'd heard about what had happened at Denerim. Wouldn't he have agreed that the goal justifies the means? There were times when she assumed he was dead. If he really had left Denerim by himself and had been traveling on his own, chances were he'd been ambushed by bandits. The likelihood of him being killed by one was nearly nonexistent, but she still wondered.

"I'm going to check out the market, see if I can find us something to eat," Leliana said. "I wonder what the food in Kirkwall tastes like. At any rate it will be a welcome change from the stale bread and cabbage stews we've been having." She waited at the door. "Will you be okay?"

Lale nodded.

"I'll go and have a look at the Chantry while I'm at it," Leliana said and smiled before heading out the door.

Lale gazed at the fire in the fireplace. The time was drawing near. And she had no idea what to say.

She turned around at hearing footsteps and saw Alistair appear in the doorway. He was buttoning his shirt and was wearing a clean, odorless set of clothes. He'd pushed his hair back and though he still looked a bit unshaven, he wasn't the drunk he'd been the night before. As his eyes met Lale's she could see there was clarity in them, and something else she couldn't put her finger on.

"So, here you are," he said. "I must say when I left Denerim over two years ago I really thought it'd be the last time I saw you." There was an empty chair at the table, but he stood still in the doorway. "Why are you here?"

"You tell me," Lale said softly.

He chuckled and paced down the room. "My guess is you're either here to lecture me," he stopped and looked at her, "or apologize." He crossed his arms. "Seeing as how it's probably a bit drastic to travel all the way to Kirkwall and drag me out of a bar just to tell me what a fool I am, I'm gonna go with the second."

Lale looked at him intently. "I'm not sorry." It had to be said. She was prepared for the outburst that would most definitely follow. His face went blank and his arms hung by his side, slightly trembling. He stared at her, trying to figure out whether she was going to say anything else, or explain herself. She just leaned forward across the table. "Alistair-"

"That man betrayed all of us!" Alistair shouted. "He sent King Cailan and his men along with the Grey Wardens to their deaths!"

Lale remained calm. "It's funny how even though I was there you seem intent on telling me that every chance you get."

"Only because you don't fully seem to understand it," Alistair said. "You knew how I felt about Loghain."

"We're Grey Wardens, Alistair," Lale said and looked up at him, "we don't have the privilege to have a personal say in these sorts of things. We have to do what's best for the greater good."

"So you let him die a hero's death?"

"I put him to good use," she said. "If it weren't for him we wouldn't be standing here together. I also don't see why he still poses such a problem to you. He's dead, just like you wanted."

"But you made him a hero," Alistair said, trembling with anger. "People are praising him because he slayed the archdemon."

"Would you rather it'd been me, then?"

Those words finally made him go quiet, if only for a few seconds. "That's not what I mean."

"I'm sure that by now you've heard about the ultimate sacrifice Grey Wardens must pay," Lale continued. "So-"

"But you didn't know that then," Alistair interrupted. "Neither of us did."

"What difference does it make?" she cried, louder than she had intended. The fire in the fireplace flickered for a moment, then subdued. Lale looked at him desperately. "You're never going to forgive me, are you?" She looked up at him.

His expression was bitter.

She sighed and shook her head. "You stubborn fool." She clenched her fists in front of her on the table. Anger and frustration had begun coursing through her veins and she tried her very best to contain it. But it burned inside her chest. All the dangers she had endured just to get here, all the years she'd lain awake at night thinking of that one day in Denerim when everything had changed, was it all for this? Was it all to have her efforts turn to dust in the face of one man's endless grudge?

Alistair sighed. "I should go." He shrieked when a ball of fire narrowly missed his face and hit the stone wall behind him. "What are you doing?"

Lale had gotten to her feet again and energy was pouring out of her fingertips. If she couldn't settle things the polite way, then she'd do it the way she was trained to.

Alistair ducked out of the way of another ball of fire and quickly snatched a bucket from the floor. "Stop it!" He deflected the incoming spells, using the bucket as a shield and crept closer. "Lale, stop it!" When he'd managed to get up close enough he threw away the bucket and firmly grasped both of Lale's wrists. "I said stop it!"

She panted, trying to break free from his grip. But he was as strong as he had been. She looked up at him. His face was only inches away from hers. There was something very familiar about their bodies being this close together, even though she was still feebly trying to release herself. Their eyes met again.

"Lale-"

She jumped up on her toes and kissed him. He released her and pushed her away before taking a few steps back dumbfounded. Tears filled up in Lale's eyes. She'd told herself so many times to stay strong and not to let her emotions run rogue with her. She'd told herself, she was only here to set things right, she wouldn't try anything. Especially in a situation like this, emotions were irrational and would only complicate things.

Alistair watched her fight back her tears. He'd never seen her look so vulnerable. He'd pushed her up against the wall before their lips even touched. Within seconds they'd stripped down each other's clothes and sank down in front of the fire, fingers entangled and lips still locked.

Alistair traced a finger across the scar running across Lale's thigh, where a Hurlock blade had struck her years ago. "I'm sorry."

Lale looked down at her lover, whose head rested on her chest.

He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I left. I said we'd see it through together, till the end."

"You were an idiot."

"I was angry," he retorted, then rolled onto his back beside her. "And I guess a bit of an idiot as well." He folded his arms across his chest. "You can't exactly blame me for feeling betrayed. Then again, I guess I know you didn't spare him just to get on my bad side. You did what you thought was best, for everyone. I should've respected that." He sighed. "I would've made such a lousy king."

"That you would."

He looked at her then laughed. "You haven't changed at all. Always so blunt." He cleared his throat. "So what happens now? Where do we go?"

"Orlais," she said. "We'll eat roast pork every night and drink wine by the gallon. We'll sing songs and make love under the stars. I'll call you an idiot and you'll call me a heartless bitch. And so we will grow old together. People will wonder why we're still in love, and we will know and that will be enough."

* * *

><p><strong>Queen Luana: <strong>My first DA:O fanfic. More are likely to follow. (And yes the last line has a minor "We'll go to Orlais and live in sin." reference)


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